


A Collection of The Dragon Prince Fics

by KTheKryptid



Category: The Dragon Prince
Genre: The dragon prince - Freeform, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KTheKryptid/pseuds/KTheKryptid
Summary: Following prompts from Whumptober 2019 https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187356400823/october-approaches-and-so-does-whumptober-2019Listen guys, it's a collection of The Dragon Prince small aus and fics fam. That's it. Each chapter is a different prompt and AU.I haven't updated this in a while because a lot of shit came up so I'm leaving it at the 8 days. Hopefully, I can slowly upload the rest of the prompts!





	1. Day 1: Shaky Hands

It was easy to run quietly for her. She had been trained in stealth. This was the easy part of her mission, even though her target was faster than she had anticipated. He didn’t notice he was being followed, however, and that in and of itself was a win. She would have to be quicker than she had ever been in her life. One hesitation, and their entire mission would fall to pieces. Her team was counting on her. Runaan was counting on her.

Rayla’s chase had gone on longer than she had anticipated. Any longer, and he would reach the castle before she could silence him. Her heart paused at that. She’d have to kill someone for the first time in her life. Yes, she had trained for this moment, but no amount of training could prepare her to truly take a life. Rayla shook herself out of her thoughts, realizing they were causing to trail too far behind the Katolan guard that had seen them. 

Her hands went to the daggers at her belt. It was time to put an end to this silly chase. She pulled them from their sheaths and increased her pace. Like the wind during a storm, she zipped through the forest’s brush to catch up to the guard. A few paces behind landed her in the perfect position to leap off a tree trunk and fall to her knees in front of him, cutting the guard off. 

The guard clumsily stumbled to a stop mere inches before her. She didn’t let his stumble stop her, however. Instead, she immediately began her attack. Blow after blow, they fought, until finally, the guard had fallen and landed on his back. Rayla stood before him, single dagger in her hand, and dropped to her knees. She brought her dagger above her head, preparing to strike, until she made a mistake that would be their downfall. 

She met the guard’s eyes. 

All Rayla saw in them was fear. There was nothing else. No hatred. No anger. Just pure fear. It’s strength shook Rayla to her core. Never had she imagined that killing someone would be so difficult. The dagger in her hand began to quiver. 

Rayla shook her head and shut her eyes tightly. She had to do this. He was right in front of her. He had nowhere to go. Runaan was counting on her. The entire team was counting on her. She had to do this. Her hand began to shake.

She opened her eyes again, and, without looking at the guard, she stood up and ran back into the forest. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t watch him wipe away his tears. She didn’t hear him thank the stars so he could see his family again. All Rayla could hear was the pounding of her heart reverberating in her ears, growing louder with every step she took.

Not able to run anymore, Rayla came to a stop, bracing herself against the trunk of a tree in front of her. Her breathing came out hard and ragged. She looked down at her hands, dagger still in her hand, and they began to shake violently. Or at least, she assumed so. Her vision began to blur as strangled cries choked out of her. Rayla wrapped her arms around her as she fell to her knees, the shaking of her hands barely noticeable against the sobs racking her body. 

  
  



	2. Day 2: Explosion

Rain pounded the forest floor, soaking Callum to the bone. He looked over to where Rayla was huddled under her makeshift shelter she had made of branches and leaves. He tried not to roll his eyes, but then again, it  _ was _ his idea to practice his primal magic in the middle of a thunderstorm. He could still hear Rayla’s remarks echo in his head. 

“You don’t need a thunderstorm to practice your primal magic, Callum.” Rayla had said as if she were explaining why grass was green to a child. “You’ve created your own connection to the primal source. The storm’s no longer necessary.”

Callum had simply shrugged it off, saying he was using the storm more as inspiration than as a primal source. There was something about the patter of rain and the chilling breeze that made Callum feel more than just a connection to the sky primal. It was almost as if he  _ were _ the storm. With his eyes closed, it almost felt like his heart beat had become the booming thunder around him. 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to do some magic?” Callum opened his eyes and turned to Rayla, watching her play with Zym in her little hut. 

He quirked his eyebrow. “You wanna come out here and help me out?”

Rayla turned over onto her back and said, “Not particularly.” She lifted Zym above her playfully. “And also, I’m a Moonshadow elf. Emphasis on  _ moon _ . I wouldn’t know the first thing about sky magic.”

Callum couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling at that. “Yeah but…”

“Sorry. I can’t hear you over all this rain.” 

Callum sighed and turned away from the elf. If he was being honest with himself, Rayla was right. She wouldn’t know the first thing about sky magic, but that didn’t make her answer any less frustrating. Rayla was from Xadia. She had to know  _ something _ about primal magic. She could be helping him in  _ some _ way. But no. There he was, standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, getting soaked, while she stayed dry playing with Zym under tree branches. 

A voice in the back of Callum’s mind rang out to him.  _ Breathe.  _ Callum turned away from Rayla and took a deep breath, inhaling deeply before releasing in a slow and steady stream.  _ Just breathe _ . He repeated his mother’s words in his head until all of his focus was on his breathing and the storm. In and out, just like his mother told him all those years ago. In and out, and slowly everything started to fade away. Rayla wasn’t there, her usual quips falling on deaf ears. Zym had disappeared. It almost felt like Callum wasn’t even in the forest but in the storm clouds themselves. He closed his eyes and breathed. In and out. If he really tried, Callum could count each individual raindrop that landed on him. He felt each and every one of them. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge in anticipation before every lightning strike. His legs shook with the earth after each clap of thunder. 

Callum slowly opened his eyes and raised his arm. “ _ Fusminil _ ,” he cried out as he drew a symbol in the air in front of him and…

Nothing.

The forest stood still. The wind brought by the storm had disappeared, and even the rain had let up. Rayla and Zym stopped playing and looked up at the sky along with Callum. “What kind of spell was that?” Rayla asked.

“I was trying out a spell that I saw Claudia perform...but I may have…”

A bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of Callum, cutting him off abruptly. Before he or Rayla knew, lightning began striking the ground all around them, the rain pouring down hard enough to bruise. The small shelter Rayla and Zym had been hiding under blew away, causing the two of them to run towards Callum.

“Callum!” Rayla shouted over the pounding thunder. “What did you do?”

“I thought I was copying a spell that I saw Claudia do, but I might have said it wrong.” 

“Said it wrong?” Rayla cried out as another bolt of lightning struck less than a foot away from her, causing her to jump closer to Callum and wrap her arms around him in fear. In fact, lightning began to strike closer to the two of them, almost as if it was closing in on them. The two of them began to scream as the lightning around them became more and more erratic, striking all around them, multiple bolts hitting the forest ground at the same time. The wind whipped around them causing Zym to tuck in between Callum and Rayla so he wouldn’t fly away while the rain continued its assault on them.

Before they knew it, one of the largest bolts of lightning either had ever seen came down and struck a large tree in front of them, causing a large  _ boom _ to echo throughout the forest. Shards of tree trunk flew everywhere. Callum raised his arm to protect him and Rayla from the flying debris. As quick as the assault started, it ended. There were no more lightning strikes. The wind had settled to a light breeze. Even the storm clouds above them began to dissipate, showing the blue sky and blinding sun hiding behind them. 

Callum lowered his arm and pulled away from Rayla, looking at where the giant tree once stood. In its place was a wide, ashen mark is if a black blob had fallen from the sky and went  _ splat! _

“I think the tree exploded,” Callum said.

Rayla simply stared at Callum blankly. “I hate you.”


	3. Day 3: Fist Fight (Alternate Prompt)

_ Stay low _ , Amaya signed to the small group of her men behind her. They kneeled lower as she turned around to watch the elvish guards patrol the sides of the outpost that, only a few months ago, was run by humans. Ever since that day, that  _ defeat _ , Amaya had been planning with her most trusted soldiers. They were going to do whatever they needed to do to take their outpost back. She  _ would _ get rid of those elves, and she  _ would _ get her outpost back to protect Katolis and the rest of the human lands. The elves took enough from her already. They weren’t going to take this.

A small light, almost unnoticeable, flashed across the way as the Sunfire elves passed Amaya’s heading spot. To anyone unfamiliar with the area, it would have been ignored. In fact, to the untrained eye, it would barely have been seen. Only Amaya and her team knew that was a signal stating everyone was in position for the next phase to begin. Amaya looked to the soldier at her side. He took a small piece of metal from his belt and moved it this way and that, light bouncing off it as well. Another signal. With this one, Amaya and her team ran from their hiding spot to the walls of the outpost. From the corner of her eyes, Amaya could see the other teams of Katolan soldiers doing the same. Rope with hooks tied to the end were thrown over the walls and she began to climb.

The elves patrolling the ramparts were taken care of swiftly and silently. Amaya didn’t want anyone to know they were there just yet. Especially not  _ her _ . As soon as all her soldiers made it to the ramparts, she sent the signal around the wall to begin the attack. From there, it was chaos.

Katolan soldiers jumped into action, shouting battle cries and other nonsense. Or at least, that was what it looked like to Amaya. She didn’t bother with sound--it never really meant anything to her anyway--and focused on meeting steel with steel. Her sword vibrated as it struck spear after spear. The Sunfire elves were not expecting them, that much was obvious from how disorganised they were. Not many even had their weapons on them by the time Amaya and her men made their way down to the main part of the outpost, but that didn’t mean the elves weren’t putting up a good fight.

Amaya found herself having to pause to take a breath. It was at that moment that another elf rushed her, trying to catch her off guard. Instead, however, she blocked the spear with her shield, and came face to face with a familiar face. The same elf she had fought during the first attack on the outpost. Amaya narrowed her eyes and shoved her shield forward, causing the elf to stumble backwards.

The two circled each other, sheer determination echoed in both their eyes. Amaya charged at the elf, who quickly responded by spinning out of the way. She was light on her feet, Amaya had to give her that. But that’s all Amaya was willing to give. She struck her sword at the elf, who easily deflected using her spear. Blow after blow was blocked by both opponents, both failing to gain an upper hand. The elf jabbed forward, aiming for the ribcage. Amaya brought her arm down to her side, pinning the spear between her swordarm and her side. The elf tried to pry it out from her grip, but Amaya would not relent. She brought her shield down and shattered the spear, leaving her the only one with a weapon.

The elf didn’t miss a beat. She kicked her foot forward and pushed against Amaya’s shield, causing the Katolan to stumble backwards this time. As Amaya was caught off guard by the swift kick, the elf wound her arm around her opponent’s sword and knocked it to the ground. Both warriors weaponless.

Amaya stared down the elf in front of her. She will  _ not _ lose this outpost a second time. She threw down her shield and rushed the elf, human fist colliding with elf face. Amaya watched the elf recoil at the impact and stumble slightly before fully facing her, a bruise already forming under her eye. The elf grimaced and attempted to kick Amaya again, but it was easily blocked. She would not let that trick get her a second time. Amaya went to strike again but was caught off guard by a blow to her gut, knocking the wind right out of her. Before she could recover, the elf warrior brought her fist down onto Amaya’s cheek, causing her to bend over, before kneeing her in the face Amaya could feel the warm blood drip from what she could only hope wasn’t a broken nose. She straightened herself and caught the elf’s next punch. Amaya twisted the elf’s arm behind her back and kicked her to her knees in submission. It was over. The elf was done. 

Amaya looked away to assess how the rest of her men were faring. Around her, she could see the elves start to easily and very quickly over power the Katolan forces. To the side, she saw a group pierce one of her men with an arrow. In her shock, she loosened her grip on the elf in front of her. Taking Amaya’s momentary lack of focus to her advantage, the elf shot up, forcing the back of her head into Amaya’s already sore nose, and delivered a powerful blow to Amaya’s chest. She fell to the ground with a thud, her head hitting the hard earth rather violently. She looked around her yet again as her vision began to blur.

She had lost. The elves had taken this from her as well.

  
  



	4. Day 4: Breathless

Sarai blinked her eyes, attempting to focus her vision. She had to get her wits about her. She had to fight the Magma titan. She had to…. _ why was she on the ground? _ The queen laid flat on her back, her head absolutely pounding. She brought a hand to the back of her head and felt something wet. She didn’t have to look down to her fingers to see that they were covered in blood.  _ What the hell happened? _ Around her, she could hear people screaming and steel meeting…something hard. A roar pierced the air, causing Sarai to wince at the sound, her head not being able to take it. She moved her head as slowly as she could in the direction of the sound. Not very far off was the Dragon King attacking...were those  _ Katolan men?  _

Yes. Yes, now it was all coming back to Sarai as the world turned sluggishly around her. The queens of Duren asking for help, the absurd plan to use Dark Magic to save them, the fight with the Magma titan. Thinking back on it, Viren did have a well planned attack strategy--although she would never say that to him--but they all had miscalculated the strength of the Xadian beast. The fight had gone on longer than they had all expected. They had more wounded than they expected. The heart of the Magma titan was heavier than they had expected. Everything had been miscalculation after miscalculation, and the plan they had left no room for error.

That was how the Dragon King had found them. They were moving too slow. No matter how hard they drove those horses, they would never have made it back to Katolis if Queen Neha and Queen Annika had not attempted to stop him. But Viren was also there. That’s why Sarai had gone back. If he didn’t come back, if he died there, the whole expedition would have been for nothing. There would be no Dark Mage to perform the spell to save both Duren and Katolis. 

Viren was their only hope. She had gone back. Yes, that’s why she was there, now, on the ground. Sarai had gone back to save him and the Dragon King had attacked them. What had she said to Harrow before she had left?  _ I’ll see you on the other side _ . Those words echoed in her mind, mocking her. She’d definitely see him on the other side, just not the side they had expected. Another miscalculation. 

Sarai could hear someone’s voice. She couldn’t exactly make out who, the words were coming out so slow and muted. She had half a mind to tell them to stop, just so the aching in her head could stop. Sarai felt her head being lifted, just slightly. Someone was staring down at her, but she couldn’t see who.

Her eyes closed. Sarai just laid there.

Breathless.

  
  



	5. Day 5: Gunpoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based off a wonderful piece of art by @sorgrcn which can be found at: https://sorgrcn.tumblr.com/post/186476702349/whos-soren-protecting-hitman-au-by-aaravosed

Gren walked through the halls unnoticed. To anyone that saw him, he would just look like another one of Viren’s goons. A bodyguard in a suit with a gun. The fake ID card and temporary identification tattoo hadn’t hurt his disguise either. Gren almost wished that someone would recognize him and put up a fight. This was too easy, which only made him all the more cautious. Maybe they already knew, and, instead of letting on, they had already notified Viren and pretended like everything was normal. He almost laughed. Viren’s men weren’t that smart. But still, he was on edge.

Opeli and Amaya had given him strict orders. Infiltrate the mansion and kill Viren. Don’t kill anyone else, and don’t get caught. It was simple, really. Gren had been given assignments like this multiple times. Granted, none of his previous targets were ever this high profile, but who was he to complain? Being an assassin paid good money, and Opeli had plenty to go around. If it brought in the cash, that was good enough for him.

Soon, Gren stopped in his tracks. A few more paces and he’d be at Viren’s doorstep. Well, technically, his _office_ doorstep seeing as he had already entered the mansion. Semantics, really. He took a steadying breath as he checked that his gun was in fact at his side. This would be a lot harder if it weren’t. He strode forward with a confidence that filled him every time he was about to complete a hit. He pushed the door open and pointed the gun at the man sitting at the desk.

“Opeli sends her regards,” Gren stated as he stepped into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“How very kind of her. Good to know she still has manners,” Viren responded. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Gren put his finger on the trigger, ready to pull back, when someone stepped in between him and Viren. _Fuck. Check the room, Gren. You always check the room!_

Soren stared down the barrel of the gun, not even phased that a man was holding his father at gunpoint. “Put it down. Don’t make us call security.”

“Soren, step back.” Gren still refused to lower his gun.

He didn’t move. “I’m not letting you go through with this, Gren. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Gren shot back. Soren opened his mouth to say something, but Gren continued, cutting him off. “It’s just a contract. I’m not here to kill you.”

“You don’t have to kill my dad,” Soren said. “No one has to die.”

Viren stood from his desk, Gren’s gun following his every movement. “Actually, someone does have to die.” He moved to stand beside his son, a hand coming to rest on Soren’s shoulder. “The second you burst into this room, I set off an alarm notifying the head of my security. He should be here any minute now with a team of very well trained men with bigger guns than yours.”

At that moment, the door to Viren’s study burst open. Soren jumped in surprise, clearly not expecting them to have gotten there that fast. A group of large men, armed to the teeth, circled around Gren, trapping him in with nowhere to go. Even so, he refused to lower his weapon, his gaze never leaving Viren’s.

“Now, put that silly toy down, _Gren_, and go with these nice gentlemen. They just want to ask you a few questions.” Viren said coyly.

Gren eyed the men around him, weighing his options. He could easily kill Viren right here and now, but that would be a death sentence for him too. He wouldn’t be able to shoot his way out. He was easily outnumbered, and although Gren liked to believe he was the best hitman, even he knew his limits. The more he thought about it, the more he realized there was no way out. He had failed for the first time ever.

_Damn. Opeli and Amaya are gonna beat my ass if I die here._ Gren sighed and dropped his gun before putting his hand up and relaxing his stance. “I know when I’m beat.”

A security guard gruffly grabbed Gren’s hands and brought them behind his back, handcuffing him, and dragging him out of the room. The last thing Gren heard before being shoved into the hallway was Viren asking what Opeli had said about her regards. Gren bit his tongue, a million remarks making their way into his mind, but none that would make his situation any better. Being pushed down a hallway and almost thrown down stairs was nothing to him, but Gren didn’t like it very much whenever it did happen.

In the basement of the mansion, Gren was shoved into a dimly lit room with a table in the middle and a chair. The guard who had ever so graciously lead him there pushed him in the seat. He gripped Gren’s hands tightly before uncuffing them. Gren’s mind raced. He could potentially escape. He could knock the guard off his balance and lock him in here as he ran away. Or he could...be handcuffed to the table. That was an idea. Not his idea, of course, but the guard’s idea. Gren almost hung his head. _This can’t get any worse._

“You can go now, thank you.” Gren’s eyes widened. _I need to learn to shut up sometimes._ He watched the guard as he left the room, leaving only him chained to a table and Soren leaning in the doorway, his trademark smirk on his face. It wasn’t until they both heard the guard go up the stairs that Soren pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, twirling it around his finger.

“So,” he said, taking a step into the room. “I’m guessing you want out of those cuffs?”

“That would be nice, yes.”

Soren stopped twirling the keys and grabbed them in his hand, smirk widening. “If I do let you out, do you promise to save them for later?”

Gren just rolled his eyes, glad to hear Soren chuckle at that. He watched Soren unlock his cuffs before looking up at him.

“Does he know?” He stood up and rubbed his wrists which had turned a bright red.

Soren shook his head, taking another step towards Gren. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ before pulling Gren in for a kiss. Their hands wound their way around each other, each gripping the other tightly. Gren had to restrain himself from running his fingers through Soren’s hair, but Soren didn’t bother with restraint. Then again, he never really did. 

After pulling away from the kiss, Soren looked to Gren, a smirk returning to his swollen lips. “But you should go before he finds out.”


	6. Day 6: Dragged Away

Viren watched the shadow assassins he created float off to the other kingdoms before making his way back to his chambers. Once they created the chaos he hoped for, they would understand. They would all understand. The Xadians were the true enemies here, not him. How he was the only one that saw that, he would never be able to guess. All he knew was that he  _ must _ get the other kingdoms behind his cause. The Xadians would never stop until they saw all the humans either powerless, Dark Magic destroyed, or destroyed themselves. Viren refused for that to happen. That’s why this was necessary. 

_ You’ve been spotted, _ the caterpillar on his ear said, spoken in Aaravos’ voice, just as Viren walked into his chambers.  _ They’re coming for you. _

Panic began to set in. This couldn’t be the end. Not when he was so close. Determination quickly overpowered his panic. “What do I do?”

_ You must fight.  _

“Fight?” Viren almost scoffed. “I’ll be easily defeated. I’m outnumbered.”

A deep chuckle echoed in his ear, making the hair on the back of his neck prick up.  _ Let me help you. _

Before he knew what was happening, Viren sensed a surge of power coarse through him. Immediately, he knew this was due to the elf. He could hear the footsteps of the guards approaching the door to his rooms. After a steadying breath, he prepared himself. Whatever was to come, he would not let them thwart his plans. Xadia had to fall.

Viren blast down the doors in front of him, catching the guards by surprise. One by one they attacked him, bringing their weapons down on him. He easily evaded them, using dark magic aided by primal magic to parry before sending his own attack onto the guards. It was easy for Viren to fight them. In the beginning, at least. 

Guards he thought he had bested began to rise to their feet. More and more began to attack him at once, realizing he was only able to focus his magical attacks on a handful of them at a time. It wasn’t long before he was surrounded, the guards forming a circle around him, weapons pointed and ready to strike. Even then, however, Viren refused to give up. He kept ahold of his magic and attempted to keep his grasp on the aid given to him by Aaravos, although it started to feel as if it was slipping through his fingers. 

The soft sound of slippers on stone brought Viren’s attention to the door. Opeli. He should have known. He should have been more prepared for this. Viren watched Opeli stride forward, parting the circle of guards around him. 

“Surrender, Viren.” It was an order. 

He almost sneered. “I have done nothing wrong!”

Opeli ignored him and tried again. “Surrender or face death by the guards surrounding you.”

Viren was about to attack, when a small voice whispered in his ear.  _ That is enough. Surrender. _

Before he could even reply, Aaravos’ magic left him. He was alone. And he had been betrayed. There was no way he would be able to take on all the guards here and Opeli just by himself. He released his own hold on dark magic, relaxing only slightly before guards on either side of him grabbed hold of his arms.

Opeli spun on her heel. “Take him to the dungeons.” With that, she walked out of the room.

Viren seethed silently. All he wanted was the best for Xadia, and there he was, being wrongfully imprisoned and most of all  _ betrayed _ . He cursed the Star Touch elf. He cursed all of Xadia. And he cursed Opeli and the guards as they dragged him away, down to the dungeons.

  
  



	7. Day 7: Isolation

Reading the books in his library had become monotonous. It wasn’t very long before Aaravos could recite them word for word to himself with perfect accuracy. He would check every time to make sure. Practicing his magic had even become tiresome. Yes, he had tried experimenting, creating new spells or potions, but there came a point where he could no longer conjure new ways of harnessing magic. 

Staring out of his window was his only escape. It made him feel like he had never left Xadia, as if he was never truly exiled and imprisoned in this god forsaken mirror. Aaravos could smell the Xadian air. It was almost as if he were truly there. He could feel the breeze upon his skin, the sun hugging him gently, raindrops kissing his skin tenderly. But it was the night that truly made him feel free. The endless night with stars as far as the eye could see. These were star patterns Aaravos had never laid eyes on when he was outside the mirror. No. These were brand new to him. And every night, he would stare up at them, creating some image with them like they did at his home. Anything to give him some semblance of normality. 

In reality, the window was nothing more than an illusion upon a wall, bewitched to allow Aaravos the ability to pass through it to a fake balcony, simulating the experience of being outside. Aaravos knew, of course. How could he not? There was always something off about it, as if a painter had created an image from memory but gotten some details wrong. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it was there. The breeze always seemed too rough. The sun was just a tad too hot. And the rain felt more like sludge than water. But he had to pretend. Pretend it was what he knew or go mad, those were his options. And he rather pretend the strange elements were what he knew, what he so longed to feel in the real world.

But it was more than just being there that he missed. It had been well over a millenia since Aaravos had so much as spoken to someone other than his reflection. One day, he was speaking to the Dragon King. Begging, in actuality, to be released from his prison. All the Dragon King did was laugh at him, seeing him as a pitiful creature instead of the once proud elf he had been. The next day, the mirror remained black. And the next. And the next. Aaravos waited, day after day, staring at the mirror. Hoping--wishing--that it would so much as shimmer. But there was nothing.

It was too much for him. Aaravos could not take the never ending silence, the suffocatingly fake beauty. It was too much. It was a bastardization of the world he loved. In his rage, Aaravos tore apart his room. The curtains were torn off their rods, ripped to shreds. He pulled page after page from his books, leaving them to cover the floor as if a whirlwind had destroyed his library. He threw the mattress off his bed frame before breaking the wood into pieces. He grabbed his hair brush and turned to the mirror, ready to destroy it himself.

And he stopped.

The mirror wasn’t black. No. Instead, he saw the destruction he had caused, and, in  the middle of it all, stood him. His hair a mess, standing up in all directions. His robe torn here and there. And his eyes a frenzied mess of anger and hurt. 

He dropped the brush. He couldn’t do it. He  _ wouldn’t _ do it.

Aaravos dropped to his knees, his head falling forward. He took a shaky breath and looked up to the ceiling, letting out a choked sob.

He was alone. He would always be alone.

  
  
  



	8. Day 8: Stab Wound

There was a small puff of violet smoke and a strange odor that lingered in the air, but it wasn’t quite what Claudia was expecting. She had been attempting higher level spells--spells here father used--all day but to no avail. Ever since she had healed Soren, she knew that she was ready for greater spells. Bigger spells. 

Dangerous spells.

Well, not really. That’s just what she decided to tell Soren so he wouldn’t bother her while she was practicing. In reality, she was just trying to attempt a large healing spell, similar to what had used on Soren. Claudia’s main goal was to control her flow of magic. Or, at least, that’s what she told herself. She enjoyed the power she had felt when she healed Soren. In fact, she relished in it. The amount of magic that flowed through her felt incredible. Every part of her body oozed dark magic. And that was what she was trying to recreate--not that she’d tell anyone that--but all of it felt like it was going nowhere. No matter what she did, Claudia was unable to recreate the amount of power she held when she healed her brother. It was beginning to frustrate her. She knew she was able to do this. She knew because, well, she  _ had _ done it. 

Claudia groaned out in frustration, balling her fists. This was ridiculous. It was getting her nowhere. She thought back to when she had seen Soren in pain, lying on the bed covered in casts. It had broken her heart. She knew that she had to heal Soren. Claudia didn’t know anymore if it was for her sake or his own, but she knew that she would do whatever it took to see him smile again, to hear him make a joke, to watch practice his sword, elegant and strong, and then laugh at him as he tripped over nothing barely a second later. She would lose her support system, the shoulder to cry on and the hand waiting to pick her up when she fell. She would have been all alone had she not been desperate enough--

It clicked, then, almost instantaneously. Claudia had been  _ desperate _ . And even above that, the desperation mixed with the absolute panic of needing to do something right away had pushed her to the actions that had led her to healing Soren. If she could replicate those exact feelings in the correct intensity, she would be able to recreate not only the healing spell but also the amount of power she had harnessed.

She walked over to one of the many cages in her study with a dagger in her hands. Leading out the baby deer, Claudia took a steadying breath. Before she brought the dagger to fawn’s throat, she closed her eyes and focused. She forced herself back to the day she had seen Soren covered in casts. She forced herself to believe that she would lose him all over again. She forced herself to watch as he struggled to move, wincing in pain with every small movement. And then, quick as a blink, she flicked the dagger horizontally, leaving a trail of blood a split second behind it and recited her spell. Immediately, Claudia felt the magic course through her body, filling her veins with electricity. Just as fast as it had filled her, the magic left her body. 

Claudia gripped the dagger tightly in her palm and slammed her fist against a cage, scaring whatever it was that she had captured inside of it. There had to be  _ something _ that could cause her body to react in a similar manner. It was then Claudia realized, much to her surprise, that she had grabbed the blade of her dagger instead of the hilt, small droplets of crimson dripping to the floor. She instinctively recited a smaller healing spell under her breath, not really realizing what she was doing, closing whatever cut she created on her palm before pausing. She took the dagger with her uninjured hand and brought her injured hand closer to her for inspection. The dagger had sliced her palm quite deep, judging by the amount of blood and pain that surrounded the area. It must have been sharp. She looked between her bloody palm and the dagger, an idea forming in her head. It was stupid, absolutely insane. If it didn’t work, she would surely die. But if it did work. Oh, if it did work, she would be well on her way to becoming an even greater dark mage than her father. 

Before she could think any further, Claudia gripped the dagger and drove it into her abdomen, crying out in pain. She forced herself to shove it deeper within her, attempting to cause as much damage to her body as possible. It was only when the room began to spin that she stopped and stumbled to another cage. Her vision became blurry as she lead another animal out of its cage. She couldn’t even see which one it was before she quickly ended it. Reciting the incantation was the struggle, however. Claudia found her voice failing her and panic began to set in as she choked on her words. 

Her strength began to fail her, and she fell onto her back as blood poured out of her. She kept trying to recite the incantation, but it was beyond her. Claudia’s body refused to create the sounds necessary. She closed her eyes, sobbing hysterically, as her body became numb, mistaking it as her own demise.

But it wasn’t her end. Not even close. Before she could comprehend what was happening, a wave of magic hit her, waking her from whatever stupor she had been in. Gone was the pain she had felt. Gone was the hopelessness. Gone was everything except the dark magic that resonated with in her. She could almost hear it humming in her ears, vibrating so much that it caused the air to pulsate around her. A sea of violet light began to cover her as she stood up. Claudia slowly pulled the dagger out of her, reciting the incantation, loudly and clearly this time.

The wound was healed. Her bleeding had stopped. She had done it. Claudia ran a hand over her stomach, feeling for any marks left by the blade. But there was nothing. Claudia smiled to herself as the magic slowly faded from within her.

She had done it. She had saved her own life.

And all it cost was another white streak in her hair.

  
  



End file.
